


Victory is Sweet

by bluerose5



Series: Shakarian One Shots [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Colonist (Mass Effect), F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Intai’sei, Mako Shenanigans, One Shot, Pining, Pinnacle Station DLC, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Trust & Respect, friendly competitions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerose5/pseuds/bluerose5
Summary: In the aftermath of ME1, Garrus finds himself spending time with Shepard at her apartment on Intai’sei.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Shakarian One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065365
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Victory is Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently finished ME1 again, and I was craving some ME1 romance material for Garrus (because I'm weak, okay!). My renegon Shepard really gets along well with him, and I see them as having a lot of trust and chemistry early on but never acting on it.
> 
> TLDR: This is pure self-indulgence on my part.
> 
> Also, for reference, Intai'sei is the desert planet where Shepard's apartment is located if you complete the Pinnacle Station challenges. This was my first playthrough doing so, and I loved the idea of Shepard having her own place even back in the ME1 era. Hence, the setting.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There’s nothing quite as sweet as victory.

After spending months upon agonizing months hunting Saren down, they had not only caught the bastard and made him pay, but they also stopped the true threat behind it all. Sovereign was no more; and while the Reapers were still out there, the imminent danger had been eliminated, even if only for the moment.

No one was foolish enough to think that it was _truly_ over. If anything, this was but a minor battle in a full-scale war that had only just begun.

Nevertheless, it was a battle well-fought, and everyone knew that they had earned themselves a little R&R. Shepard was generous enough to let everyone —well, most of her inner circle at least— choose a planet destination for their shore leave. Once their victory tour was done, then they’d hop right into those assignments that were sent by the newly-appointed Council.

The catch was that Shepard got first pick of where they’d go. Of course, no one argued. While it was stupid first and foremost to argue with _the_ Commander Shepard, and arguably bad for your overall health and wellbeing, the crew knew that if anybody deserved a vacation it was her. Shepard's ruthless pursuit of Saren was admirable in many aspects, but that ruthlessness often came at the cost of her personal health. Sheer determination and stubbornness were often accompanied by many long, exhausting, sleepless nights.

Which is why when she suggested that they start their vacation on Intai’sei, there were only a few grumbles of discontent. Even among those that complained, the destination was begrudgingly accepted, and any protests were kept amongst themselves and the rest of the crew.

It wasn’t as if Intai’sei was a terrible place, especially to the alien species on board that were used to warmer climates, but it was simply more remote than the average tourist destination.

Safe to say, it was clear why Shepard chose it. She wanted to spend some time at her apartment, probably sort out some personal business before they go back to chasing down geth, and she wanted to _rest._

Garrus couldn’t even begin to imagine what she would do there in her free time. Her idea of “relaxing” most days was cleaning and maintaining her sniper rifle.

Not that he was one to judge.

As he and the others ate lunch together in the mess, they were already suited up in their civvies, only about a few hours out from their destination. Kaidan and Liara were locked in a conversation about some new biotic amp or another, and Wrex and Tali were busy grilling Garrus over their foolish delusions.

“Come on!” Tali huffed, the glow of her eyes narrowing beyond her faceplate. “Anyone with eyes could see it.”

Always with this same old argument. Garrus lost track of all the times Ashley and Tali ganged up on him about this, refusing to buy into their fantasies.

The banter rang kind of hollow with Ashley’s usual spot vacant now, but Wrex was there to pick up the slack at least, siding with Tali.

“Ha! There’s going to be nothing left of me besides dusty ass bones in my grave by the time _those two_ make a move.”

Garrus clamped his mandibles down close to his face.

“Maybe because there’s no reason for me to ‘make a move,’” Garrus retorted, poking his spoon at his dextro-friendly rations. On today’s menu, go figure. Nutrient paste!

Nothing like the day’s serving of mystery meat to settle his stomach.

“Oh, please,” Tali scoffed. “Explain then why Shepard takes you on every single mission.”

“Because I’m obviously more competent than the rest of you,” Garrus deadpanned, to which Tali responded by calling him an _ax’kah._ He continued on as if he hadn’t heard her. “And if the Commander's affections depended on who she brought along for the most missions thus far, then Wrex would be just as much of a potential match.”

“Lucky for you, Garrus, you don’t have to worry about ole Wrex here giving you any competition.” He chuckled heartily. “Humans are too squishy for my tastes. Besides, that wouldn’t even be a fair fight. For you, at least.”

Liara coughed to cover up her laugh, obviously not eavesdropping in the slightest. Kaidan managed to maintain his composure with more grace, however, only the smallest quirk at the corner of his lips there to give him away.

Nice to know that even the two people on the ship that had been vying for Shepard’s attention several months earlier found amusement in Garrus's current predicament.

“You’re not going to bait me, Wrex,” Garrus sighed, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. “I admire and respect the Commander too much to jeopardize our friendship over such basic wants and desires.”

Liara leaned in then, her previous discussion forgotten for the moment.

“So you’re not denying that you _do_ want her, though?” she asked.

“Not you too.” Garrus glared. “How did you get _that_ out of what I said?”

Liara simply shrugged, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“You two are the worst kept secret in this entire galaxy,” Tali grumbled, everyone mumbling their agreement around the table. “You’re the only ones who haven’t caught on yet.”

Garrus shook his head with a roll of his eyes, a habit that he picked up from spending so much time with Shep— with _humans._ From spending so much time with _humans_. Because that’s what happens when a turian spends an assignment aboard an Alliance vessel, not from spending time with any one human specifically.

“Even Dr. Chakwas noticed your pouting when Shepard left you behind that one time in the Gorgon System,” Liara said.

“The mission with that rachni-infested supply ship?” Wrex asked.

“The very one,” Liara answered.

Ah, yes, that one.

In Garrus’s defense, he was only left behind because he had sustained some minor injuries after their mission on Noveria.

Damn commandos.

Turns out, being thrown biotically across the room wasn’t as fun as it sounded. Who would’ve thought?

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, guys,” Garrus sighed.

A shadow fell upon the table then, and a hand came down hard onto Garrus’s shoulder, causing him to jump in shock.

“Hey, easy there, big guy.” Shepard laughed, her bright green eyes scanning her crew’s all-too-innocent expressions with suspicion. “What are we laughing about today?”

If nothing else, leave it to Commander Shepard’s presence to get people to suddenly clam up. Her inner circle of crew members admittedly did better now when coping with her sudden appearances, but it was noticeable how the chatter in the mess hall lessened within seconds of others noticing her. It was like comparing the roar of a waterfall to the slight trickle of a stream.

Garrus was unable to look away from her as she claimed the seat beside him, his mouth now bone dry.

Intimidating as she was in armor, she was equally as so out of it. It was a rare day to see the Commander in her civvies, though. Usually, when she wasn’t out on the battlefield, she was dressed to the t in her dress blues or her fatigues. Now, she had on a black tank top with the N7 symbol emblazoned upon it. Dark khaki cargo pants hung off her legs, the bottoms tucked neatly into pristine, black combat boots.

For a human, her frame was sturdier than most, all toned muscle from years upon years of elite combat experience. Scars and freckles littered her skin here and there, rough and calloused around the edges where others of her kind were smooth and soft.

But Garrus could admire her battlefield prowess without it being suggestive. He wasn’t really into aliens like that, not in a physical sense at least.

Although, did he really need to be into humans as a whole to be into _Shepard_? At the end of the day, he might not have a human fetish or whatever they call it, but Shepard has been an amazing friend and an even greater influence. Trustworthy, smart, dependable.

Wait. _Wait._ Hold up.

What was he thinking?!

He absolutely, positively _did not_ have a thing for his commanding officer. No way, no how.

He was just letting the others get to him, that’s all.

A sharp kick to his leg dragged him out of his thoughts, Garrus glaring at Tali, who was extremely taken in by her own serving of nutrient paste all of a sudden.

Thankfully, Kaidan intervened to save the day. Sort of.

“Oh, you know how it is, Commander.” He waved off any suspicions with ease. “We were just having a laugh at Vakarian’s expense because he seems to think he’s the better shot between you two.”

That little shi—

“Is that so?” Shepard turned the intensity of her gaze onto Garrus, the unspoken challenge as clear as day. “You know I never back down from a challenge. Care to put your credits where your mouth is?”

“And humiliate you in front of your entire crew? How will your reputation ever recover, Shep?”

The playful punch to the shoulder was completely worth it.

“Big talk. You better be ready to back it up then,” Shepard told him, barely sparing the others a glance. “As a matter of fact, I have a setup at my place. Wanna come over and shoot the shit later?”

Good thing Garrus was picking up more on human figures of speech. Otherwise, he would be very confused.

“What?” Wrex interrupted, baring his teeth in a smile. “Not gonna invite the rest of us, Shepard? I’m wounded.”

She smirked at him.

“No need to get jealous. I’m simply trying to minimize my losses now and spare myself the embarrassment when the _great Garrus Vakarian_ kicks my ass at target practice.”

“You guys are _so_ funny,” Garrus stated, his expression as unimpressed as his tone. “Seriously, I’m about to crack a rib over here from laughing so hard.”

Nevertheless, he accepted Shepard’s offer, careful to avoid all of the smug looks thrown his way. None of which seemed to let up in the slightest all throughout lunchtime. They even continued when they were departing from the Normandy, docking at one of Intai’sei’s few urbanized centers.

All the scrutiny finally ended when he and Shep hitched a ride in the Mako, Garrus making sure about ten times over that he was harnessed in correctly. Shepard noticed his squirming, huffing at him in offense.

“The fact that you have so little trust in me…”

Garrus chuckled, the sound reverberating warmly throughout his chest.

“On the contrary, I trust you with my life, Shepard.”

“Honestly, a poor decision made on your part,” she said, earning a glare in response.

“It’s just your driving that I don’t have any faith in.”

She only proved his point when she decided to put the damn Mako into drive at full speed. No warning given because that was a privilege, apparently. That, and she intentionally chose to go the bumpier, more uneven routes instead of using the paths that were clearly made for travel. Shortcuts, she called them.

Garrus called bullshit.

Safe to say, the poor seats didn’t deserve to be ripped to shreds by his talons, but Garrus refused to loosen his grip in the slightest, eyes wide as Shepard cackled in delight.

“Go that way! Go that way!” Garrus ordered, but Shepard shook her head, beaming at him with a rare, carefree laugh. Had he not been in a life-or-death situation, he probably would have taken the time to truly appreciate it. “Keep your eyes straight ahead, you madwoman!”

They hit a particularly nasty bump, one that nearly sent the Mako rolling. Garrus braced himself with an ungodly shriek, one that carried through without the help of the translators.

Shepard was practically wheezing with her laughter, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

“I’m glad that you find our imminent death to be so entertaining!” Garrus yelped.

“Oh, quit crying, you big baby.”

The Mako screeched to a halt, Shepard slamming down hard on the breaks. Had it not been for his harness there to protect him, Garrus would’ve been sent sprawled out all across the floor.

When Shepard turned to him, he was still clutching onto everything and anything for dear life, trembling as his talons scrambled to find purchase.

“Come on,” Shep snickered, gesturing out towards her cozy, secluded home. “Let me show you around the place.”

Once Garrus managed to release his death grip on things, he made quick work of the latches on his harness and jumped down from the Mako. Shepard was already waiting for him, squinting up at the evening sun as she let its golden rays caress her skin.

This was the first time Garrus could ever remember seeing her shoulders or the entirety of her arms for that matter. They had a light smattering of what humans called freckles upon them, much like her nose and cheeks did. It was a pleasant surprise, Garrus unaware that they could extend beyond her face in such a way.

He idly wondered where else she might have them, quickly shoving that thought away within his next breath.

Garrus definitely needed to stop letting the others get in his head. This was Shepard, after all. She’s gotten him through a lot in the past few months as he struggled with himself, giving him advice without making him feel naïve, offering him support without talking down at him. She always seemed so put together in comparison to him, yet she never hesitated to hear him out. If she asked for his opinion, she gave his words some real thought. While her final decision might differ from what he advised, he never felt as if she disregarded what he said without thoroughly considering it.

Shepard—

Shepard made him feel as if he actually made a difference.

Which is why, even if he did admit to wanting her —not that he was saying that at all— then he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t consciously act first on such wants and desires without knowing that was what she wanted as well, one hundred percent. Anything else would be too much of a risk, and he refused to put their friendship and camaraderie on the line for some casual, cross-species liaison or whatever they call it.

Ugh, now he felt like he needed a shower after calling it that.

All of his thoughts came crashing down at once when he felt Shepard grab ahold of his wrist, dragging him towards the place she had won from Ahern in that bet.

Right, she wanted to show him around.

“Whew!” she puffed. “They weren’t kidding about how hot this place is, were they?”

Garrus tried not to think about how close their hands were, grimacing when his attention returned to the heat.

“You know, between this world and Feros, I’m starting to think that you humans have a thing for settling the most remote, uninhabitable worlds,” Garrus joked.

“Don’t forget Eden Prime,” she sighed.

Garrus shrugged.

“Well, at least that one was actually pretty decent before Saren and the geth.”

“Just ‘decent?’” Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“Now, now, don’t get offended. We’ll cut you some slack since your species is still so new to the scene.”

“How considerate.”

When she released her grip on him to open the door, Garrus tried not to linger on the sudden cold sensation that radiated throughout his wrist. Surely it was only a trick of the mind, it being way too hot out today to feel chills of any sort.

As they strolled inside, Garrus looked around in curiosity, snickering when he noticed the weapons loadout by the door.

“Expecting some action, Shepard?”

Her responding grin was a bit bitter.

“Out in the colonies? Always.”

Garrus instantly felt like a dick.

“That’s right. You, uh—” He waved his hand around helplessly, at a loss for words. “You grew up in the colonies, right?”

“Yeah, I did.”

An awkward tension blanketed the room, neither one of them making a move to leave the entryway. They both continued to stand there in silence, staring thoughtfully at the weapons display.

Garrus doesn’t know what made him ask. After all, it was common knowledge that the Commander absolutely did not like to speak about her past, but Garrus figured that his curiosity got the better of himself. The question was an oblivious one, one born out of a moment of weakness.

“What was it like?”

He instantly regretted opening his big mouth when Shepard tensed, every line of her body suddenly on edge.

“You mean Mindoir?” she asked, careful not to look at him while she spoke.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to—”

She cut him off before he could dig himself in even deeper.

“It was boring,” she said, short and curt. When Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, it looked more like she was trying to give herself a hug, an attempt to keep herself from flying apart. She dug her nails into the skin of her arm, but Garrus was smart enough not to mention it this time. “It wasn’t too different from Eden Prime, actually. Just smaller in scale. It was a farming colony, relatively self-sufficient. It was quiet. It was safe.” She paused, considering. “For a long time, it was _home._ ”

Garrus’s silence encouraged her to go on, so she did.

“I always thought it was silly, how humans insisted on Earth being _our_ home. I don’t know how it is for other species, but I never once as a colonist felt any sort of connection to _Earth_ , not beyond some ancestral respect for those who came before me. Other than that, though? What’s so special about it, besides having an insanely large population? Before that lunar mission with the rogue VI, I never once saw the place beyond the vids on the extranet. Earth wasn’t home. It never was. _Mindoir_ —” She swallowed, blinking quickly. “Mindoir was home. Earth was just another planet that you hear about on the news, but—”

She paused, having to take a deep, bracing breath.

“But who would want to attack stupid, old Mindoir? What did we have that was so special? What were they going to steal, our crops?” She scoffed, shaking her head at the naivete of such thoughts. “Yeah, we were out in the Traverse, but we weren’t anywhere near important enough to warrant an attack. No way would anyone think of attacking a bunch of farmers.”

It was then that she seemed to realize she was still ranting, jolting as she caught sight of Garrus once more. Her face paled, and she made sure to avoid his eyes, her gaze directed anywhere but at him.

Clearing her throat, she rubbed at the back of her neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t drag you out here to drop my baggage at your feet,” she explained, huffing hard enough to send her hair out of her eyes.

Garrus appraised her for a weighted moment, admittedly thrown off by her spiel.

Even though part of him wanted to know more, he had a feeling that the last thing she needed at the moment was for him to pry further.

He was already strangely grateful to have been the one she confided in about this. Better for him not to ruin the moment by being greedy.

“No need to apologize.” If he knew anything about Shepard, though, Garrus knew that it would be better not to draw any more attention to the matter than they already have. He nodded pointedly at the sniper rifle hanging up on the wall. “So… where are we going to do this? Might as well get your loss out of the way, Commander. I do love making humans cry.”

Her entire demeanor relaxed at the change of subject, her smirk bright with amusement.

“Keep talking shit, Vakarian. Your pride is going to be blasted to dust by the time I get finished kicking your ass.”

“Promises, promises, Commander.”

To even the odds, Shepard even provided him with an exact replica of her favorite rifle. Everything, down to each individual modification, was identical. The scopes were both zeroed and calibrated by the same methods, and Garrus couldn’t refrain from marveling at the sheer perfection and beauty of the weapon.

Shepard whistled playfully.

“May your spirits have mercy if you ever decide to look at a woman the way you look at that gun,” she teased.

Garrus rolled his eyes again, mumbling at her to get on with it.

When they entered the indoor shooting range on the lower level, Garrus wondered which one of the Alliance soldiers had been the one to install the addition upon the home, Ahern or Shepard.

Once the range fired up with a virtual simulation for practice, a First Contact scenario among those listed, Garrus knew that he had his answer.

Thankfully, Shepard settled on geth for their enemy squads, something that both of them would be comfortable with.

For the next couple of hours, Garrus and Shepard let loose shot after shot, talking about anything and everything that came to mind to help pass the time. Majority of the time, they were neck and neck when it came to both quantity and quality of shots. Occasionally, one of them would one up the other, the simulation’s VI keeping track of their progress through points.

When they finally called it, it was a draw. Surprise, surprise.

Shepard narrowed her gaze at the score, but she eventually clapped a hand down onto Garrus’s shoulder with a companionable laugh.

“Nice to see you’re keeping up, big guy, but you know what this means, right?”

Garrus’s mandibles flared out slightly into a smile, fluttering back in close to his face.

He had sparred with Shepard in some hand-to-hand enough times to know _that_ look.

“Rematch?”

“Rematch,” she agreed, nodding resolutely with one last look at the score, “but at a later date. Let’s pack it up in here. Time for us to do something ‘normal.’”

“Normal?” Garrus echoed, as if the very idea was a foreign one. “Ah, so you did have ulterior motives for bringing me here.”

“You caught me.” After stowing her rifle away, she held her hands up in surrender. “I dragged you to my evil lair to force you to watch cheesy romcoms with me.”

“The highest form of torture.”

She snorted, leading him upstairs into the main living area.

“Fine. I’ll let you choose the movie, you big baby.”

“Thank the spirits for small miracles,” Garrus sighed.

As he got settled in on her couch, he searched through his own personal library on his omni-tool to see if there was anything interesting to watch.

With a startled “oh shit,” Shepard disappeared out of sight while he searched, rushing in the direction of the entryway. A few moments later, she returned from outside with a small cooler in hand, her expression relieved.

“Good thing I remembered your gift,” she said, plopping the cooler down onto the floor between them. “Still nice and cool, too.”

Garrus kicked the cooler open hesitantly, peering inside. His mandibles fell slack.

“You didn’t,” he gasped.

“I did,” she said, beyond satisfied by his response. “Who’s the best?”

Reaching down, he took one of the beers out of its pack, the dark blue fluid sloshing around freely inside of the bottle. Thing was, this wasn’t some cheap, every day, dextro-based beer. It was a highly sought after brand sold only on Palaven, made by a local family brewery. They didn’t export off-world, or so Garrus thought at least.

He knew for certain that he had only brought up the brand’s name once or twice in conversation, and even that had been done in passing. A throwaway comment when he and Tali were talking about being homesick, back when they were all still relatively new to one another. He and Tali were talking about things that they missed from home, and drinks had come up somehow. He couldn’t remember why exactly, but then again the ‘why’ didn't really matter. Shepard had been in the mess along with them, but remained ultimately silent throughout their discussion.

He hadn’t even realized that she had been listening, let alone that she would remember such a minute detail.

It was a not-too-subtle reminder that she often listened —and cared— more than she let on.

When she plopped down onto the couch beside him, Garrus pulled her into his side in an awkward, one-armed hug.

“You’re the best,” he readily agreed, “and thank you.”

Tensing slightly, she soon melted against his side, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s no problem.” Despite her casual words, her face was flushed warm with a pink hue, Garrus staring at her cheeks questioningly. “Besides, it’s not every day that we have something to celebrate.”

At first, he thought she meant her triumph at the “Battle of the Citadel,” as people were calling it; however, he instantly grew suspicious when she pulled up her omni-tool interface.

“Do we have something _else_ to celebrate, besides Sovereign’s defeat, I mean?”

“Duh,” she exclaimed, as if he was the idiot for even asking. She swiped through several threads of correspondence, focused intently on her task.

Garrus waited, none too patiently.

“Are you perhaps going to share what we’re celebrating?”

She held up a finger to him, pressing it against his mouth when she heard him huff.

“Shh! And… there it is! Buried under about a thousand new requests for help.”

“Busy woman,” Garrus said, leaning in when she supposedly found what she was looking for. She shoved his face away, though, and forwarded the message to his omni-tool.

When his rang out with a notification, he pulled the message up on display, his eyes getting wider and wider the longer he read.

_Spectre Operative Jane Shepard,_

_We, the Council, are pleased to accept your recommendation on behalf of your squadmate, Garrus Vakarian. His application into the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance group has been officially reopened, and all of his efforts in aiding you against Saren and the geth have been noted on file._

The formalities went on for several paragraphs, Garrus skimming eagerly until he got to the end.

_Please note that we will be contacting Mr. Vakarian soon regarding possible placement with another agent, who will be charged with evaluating his performance as a Spectre candidate. This is to ensure that the process remains fair and impartial to all parties involved._

_We thank you for your service and all that you do, Commander Shepard._

It was signed by their latest Councilors, no doubt about it. Garrus glanced at Shepard, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Shepard, I—”

“Cheers!” She dug through the cooler and found her own beer, popping it open before clinking her glass against his. “Congratulations, big guy. You’re one step closer!”

“But I—”

He’d have to leave, and it would probably be soon from the sound of things. Was she really going to skirt over that fact?

“No need to get all sentimental, really. Although I do accept payment in praise,” she said, pausing to consider, “and credits. Don’t forget credits.”

Garrus set aside his drink, angling himself to face her.

“So is this where we ignore the —what did Kaidan call it— the giant ‘elephant’ in the room?”

Not that Garrus even knew what an elephant was. Something to look up later.

Shepard’s expression soured.

“No. What elephant? Isn’t this what you wanted, Garrus? You wanted to reapply for the Spectres, and now you're on the Council's radar. This is good news! I thought you would be happy.”

He shifted uncomfortably, not all that convinced by the strained cheer in her voice.

“Yes, it is, but it’s also happening so fast. This is very short notice,” he stated.

“Better to get it over with now,” Shepard pointed out, running her fingers through red strands. “What’s the point in waiting around? You have their attention _now._ You have their gratitude for saving the fucking galaxy. Take advantage of it while you can.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” he asked, his joke falling flat by how wounded he sounded.

Shepard winced, but steeled herself.

“No… But I don’t want to be what holds you back either. You’re ready for whatever this galaxy throws at you, Garrus. I’m still just waiting on _you_ to believe that.”

“Excuse me for not having your confidence,” he grumbled, “or for not wanting to leave my best friend behind.”

It took him a moment to process what he had said, his expression equally as shocked as Shepard’s from the looks of things.

“I, well, uh—” Garrus sputtered, trying to find some way to salvage the conversation.

He had never known Commander Shepard to be the type to get flustered either, yet here they were, both tripping over their tongues like a couple of adolescent fools.

 _“Don’t.”_ Bless her. Shepard eventually found the words to step in with before this trainwreck of a conversation derailed even further. “Don’t get all sappy and make this even harder than it has to be. If you’re serious about becoming a Spectre, which you _are,_ then you’ll only be gone for a little while anyways. Just make sure to come back after you’ve been accepted into the ranks because drinks are gonna be on me.”

And with that accompanying flash of her smile, Garrus felt as if everything in the world had righted itself, if only for the moment.

“Understood,” he replied, letting her words of reassurance sink in to calm his frazzled nerves.

“Okay, then enough of this heavy stuff. Let’s pirate that new Blasto movie, drink some beer, and talk shit about how horrible the effects have gotten."

“As if they were ever good to begin with.”

But they do exactly as she suggested, having what she deemed to be their first movie night together. In the solarium, they not only had a good view of the movie, but of Intai’sei’s sunset as well.

There was something unmistakably intimate about it all, but Garrus didn’t dare linger on it.

Halfway through the movie, Shepard fell asleep against his side, melting against him with a half-hearted mumble. She fought to keep her eyes open to the last second, but Garrus refused to try and wake her. For a while, he didn’t even dare move, too afraid to breathe at times.

Turns out, the dark circles under Shepard’s eyes concerned him way more than his own personal discomfort.

Once he was certain that she was out for good, he carried her carefully over to her bed, returning to the couch only after he had tucked her in under the blankets.

Another movie or two later, and he was fast asleep as well. Thoughts of Shepard and the Spectres were still fresh on his mind as darkness consumed him.

That night had been a good night, Garrus remembered, one of a few in the months that followed.

Yeah, victory sure was sweet.

Until it wasn’t.

Because both Garrus and Shepard made the same mistake that Shepard spoke about with Mindoir. Garrus, in particular, thought that “later” was promised to them, thought that Jane was invincible just because she also happened to be _the Commander Shepard._ Nothing could take her down. Who would even think about attacking her? What would they have to gain by challenging her, besides a long, slow, painful death? She would be fine while he was away. He was certain of it.

All it took was one Collector attack, and Garrus’s entire world had been turned upside down.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Ax'kah - asshole
> 
> Please note that I edited this very little, but I was still satisfied with it regardless so I decided to share it.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment! I love hearing from everyone.
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading. <3


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